


Sacrifice

by bi0nicbuckyb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi0nicbuckyb/pseuds/bi0nicbuckyb





	Sacrifice

This fight had been an ugly one, one you’d never experienced with Dean before in all the years you knew him. He was manic, pacing back and forth across the floor of the library, running his fingers through his hair and tugging on the ends in frustration. His eyes were blazing whenever he looked at you, the fire in them hidden behind the sparkling emerald green. This wasn’t the Dean you knew, the Dean you loved. This was the product of the Mark. 

“Dean…” you started, placing your hands flat on the table to try and steady your balance. “Just please, try to relax. I --”

“Relax?!” he screamed, his voice echoing off the walls and making you wince. “This thing on my arm… it’s making me crazy, Y/N. It has to go and the only way to get rid of it, is to bring out some other shit that we have no idea how to deal with. So, you just tell me how to relax and I’ll do my fucking best.” Placing his hands on the back of the nearest chair, he leaned against it, looking directly at you and waiting for an answer. He was gripping the chair so hard, his knuckles were white. 

“We know how to get it off!” you yelled back, wiping the beads of sweat off your forehead that had started to form when he raised his voice. Sam wasn’t here, so you were trying your best to tread the water lightly, but you were pissed now, unable to control your emotions. “We can deal with the bullshit we release later!” 

“And what if this bullshit can’t be dealt with, huh? We’re dealing with the Mark of freakin Cain here, Y/N! The Book of the Damned! Whatever comes out is not gonna just cease to exist because of rock salt shells and fucking hoodoo! Think before you talk, god dammit…” He pushed the chair over in one big gust of strength, the loud sound of the chair slamming off the floor making you jump and yelp in surprise. 

After all this time that the Mark was on Dean’s arm, he’d never shown aggression towards you before, or even in your presence. If anything, you were the only one who could calm him down. But now, there was no calming him, no making this better. The fire was starting to engulf his emerald eyes now, fear creeping through your body, alerting your brain to the imminent danger. 

“I’m going to go,” you said, reaching for your jacket on the coat hanger and fishing your car keys out of the pocket. You heard him charge up behind you, swiftly blocking your only way out of the Bunker. His face was red, but he was still so handsome. All you wanted to do was hold him tight and never let him go, shush him until he shut up and became the Dean you knew, the Dean you loved. Dean’s nostrils flared as he stood his ground. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” he spat, getting closer to you now, in your face. You put your hands out and splayed them against his chest, to stop him from getting any closer. 

“Dean, please…” you begged, looking into his eyes and trying so hard to find him in there. “This isn’t you talking, it’s the Mark.”

“Out of all people, you are supposed to be the one to have my back, be on my side. You’re my fucking wife, Y/N.” Your heart broke, you felt it; felt every piece falling from your chest down into your stomach. You were on his side, but the side that wanted to save him, not sacrifice him. 

“Listen to me,” you breathed out, begging for him to listen. Bravely, you moved your hands up to rest on his cheeks, his week old scruff scratching against your palms. “You are my husband, and I love you more than life itself. I am on your side, but I’m also on the side that saves your life, not the one where you sacrifice yourself for the greater good. This is the only way I get to keep you, and I’m sticking to it.” Brushing your thumb over his cheek you took a sigh of relief, as you watched his face soften at your touch. 

Before you could react, Dean’s hands were underneath your shirt, guiding your back against the nearby wall. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain, his tongue already running over your bottom lip to gain access to your mouth. When you let him inside, your tongues danced together in perfect unison, just as they always did. His mouth tasted sweet, like the bottle of amber whiskey you knew he’d consume, the smell of his apple shampoo invading your senses. 

Dean’s touches were desperate, needy. He rutted himself against you, rubbing his denim clad, rock hard erections against your thigh. His hands roamed along the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as you possibly could, your breath leaving your body as his lips moved to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck. Biting your collarbone, he licked and kissed a trail back up, taking the shell of your ear between his teeth. There was no space between you now, as if your bodies were morphing into one. Your breaths were short and wispy, your hands now running through his hair and tugging in need. 

“Fuckkkk,” he growled, as you pulled at the strands of his soft hair. Popping open the buttons on your flannel, he ripped it off of you, reaching around and quickly undoing the clasps of your bra. He rubbed his face against your soft breasts, taking your left nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You could feel the need between your legs start to ache, wanting desperately to feel his mouth in another pace. He undid your belt, whipping it out of the loops and tossing it aside. It was mere seconds before he had your jeans and panties off, depositing them along with the rest of your clothes. 

You were now standing naked in front of him, his emerald orbs looking over you hungrily. Your back was still flush against the wall, unable to move, not wanting to move. He was suddenly between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, his hands moving around to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass. A soft gasp fluttered past your lips as he smacked your ass, pulling your already soaking wet pussy closer to his mouth. You looked down to watch him between your spread, trembling legs, his perfect lips just inches away from your throbbing clit. 

“P-Please, Dean…” you begged, squirming underneath him, the desperation taking you completely over now. 

“I love hearing you beg for me,” he groaned, the last part muffled as he dove into your needy cunt. His nose brushed over your clit, before his tongue took its place, swirling around it in circles and bringing it into his mouth. Dean’s large hands helped keep you steady, as he sucked on your swollen bud, emitting mewls and cries of pleasure from your mouth that you’d never heard before. The groans and growling coming from between your legs were from Dean, and they were the sexiest sound you’d ever heard. You were so close to coming, you gripped at his hair and shirt for purchase. Dean knew you were close, could tell by your reactions, and he slipped one, thick digit inside you, curling it towards him. For one brief second, he moved his mouth away from your sex. 

“Cum for me,” he demanded, taking your clit back into his mouth. You felt your knees give out as you came, hard and fast around his finger. His tongue was there to catch all of your juices, your chest rising and falling, struggling to properly breathe. Dean stood up and kissed you, his tongue in your mouth allowing you to taste the salty-sweet of your own cum. His face was coated with it, and you felt the urge to cum again. 

Your hands scrambled to undo the buttons on Dean’s denim shirt, his eyes stuck on your flushed face as he watched you struggle with the stupid buttons. He stepped back and rid himself quickly of his clothes entirely, throwing them aside with your own. His cock was hard as a rock, so hard you swore you could see it throbbing from a few feet away. Extending his hand out to you, you took it, allowing him to walk you to the table and bend you over it. Dean’s large hand caressed the small of your back, until you arched it perfectly. You felt him line the tip up to your soaking entrance, felt his cock stretch you out as he eased himself inside, filling you to the brink. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed, gripping your hips as he moved out and slammed back in. You cried out, gripping the edges of the table. “So fucking wet for me…” 

Dean was slow at first, allowing you to adjust to his size, but he quickly picked up the pace, slamming into you with fervor. His hands moved to your shoulders to pull you upwards, so you were practically standing, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he fucked you with reckless abandon. 

“Dean…” you breathed, as his hand moved to rest on your throat. He squeezed it lightly, the red Mark blazing against his tanned, freckled skin. You were afraid he’d lose control, but also entirely turned on. He was still fucking you hard, the grip on your throat releasing, his hand just resting there to let you know you were his. 

“Do you even understand how insane you drive me?” he asked, the tip of his cock brushing against your sweetest spot over and over. “Yet I can’t ever fucking get enough of you…” 

You were so close to cumming now, felt the rubber band in your belly poised to snap, your knuckles white as snow from gripping the table so hard. Dean could feel your walls clench and flutter around him, knowing how close you were. He took his hand off of your throat, and began to pepper kisses along your shoulder blades, slowing down his pace. 

“Cum,” he breathed into your skin, his lips grazing all along the ridges and valleys of your back. “Cum on my dick, Y/N. Lemme feel you, baby.” 

His words were like velvet and you came undone, cumming so hard around him you saw stars. You heard a guttural groan behind you, as Dean spilled his hot seed deep inside you, his cock twitching against your sensitive walls. Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you close to him, kissing all along your chest and collarbone as he turned you to face him. You felt his cock slip out of you as he worked his fingers into your hair, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb along the apple of your cheek. 

“It’s okay, Dean,” you responded, tracing a pattern with your finger along his forearm, connecting each freckle. “I know it’s the Mark.”

“I love you,” he said, making sure your eyes connected with his perfect green ones, making sure you knew he meant it. 

“I love you too,” you answered. “And I choose you. I’ll always choose you. The Mark goes, no matter the cost. Deal?”

“Deal.”


End file.
